Marian spent the evening sitting alone in the foundation's nearly empty reading room, staring at the original offer letter on her laptop. She could leave. Her degree opened other doors now. She had enough money in savings to survive a period without work. A younger version of herself would have stayed silent because silence helped keep the lights on. That made the choice in front of her feel even heavier.
She thought of Ilona Horvath pointing at a sign while a screen announced that she wanted nothing. Then she opened a new document and began writing a formal risk report.
It contained the exact problematic language, the differences between the versions, Priya's documented warnings, the clinic workflow concerns, and a recommendation to pause the consent and medical-instruction features until independent specialists had reviewed them. Marian separated what she knew from what she suspected. She refused to call the platform dangerous in every situation; staff had told her it was helpful for directions and routine information. But usefulness in one setting did not prove safety in another.
At six the next morning, she sent the report to the foundation's independent oversight committee and to Alistair himself, as her employment agreement permitted. By eight, Alistair had asked her to come upstairs.
"Adrian tells me you've been difficult," he began.
"I've been asking difficult questions," Marian answered.
"He says the problems are manageable."
"Then he should be able to explain how they're managed, who checks, and what happens when a patient says the translation was wrong."
Alistair set the pages down. "I approved this initiative personally. I promised the clinics a new system before winter."
"I know."
"Delaying it could cost millions."
"I know that, too."
He studied her face. "You aren't afraid of losing this job?"
"I'm afraid of keeping it by agreeing to something I believe is wrong."
For a long moment, the only sound was the low rush of traffic beyond the glass. Then Alistair sat down and turned to the first page of her report.
"Walk me through it," he said. "Every part. Don't skip anything because it might embarrass me."
Marian did. She explained how the flawed wording moved through the software, how the project counted interactions as successes, and how human interpretation had been treated as a cost to eliminate rather than a service to preserve when necessary. Alistair asked questions, sometimes sharply. Marian answered what she could and acknowledged what she could not yet prove.
"I thought the donation was the generous part," he said.
"It was generous to pay for help," Marian replied. "But the people receiving it still get to say whether it helps."
Alistair called for an independent review, but he refused to cancel the public launch without hearing from the clinics. Marian agreed with the need for evidence and helped arrange meetings that would respect patient privacy. Nadine described her experience. Priya explained the unresolved technical warnings. Ilona, who had volunteered to speak through a qualified interpreter, told the review panel what it felt like to ask a question and have a machine answer a different one.
"I am not angry at the tablet," Ilona said. "I am angry that people believed the tablet instead of me."